


Proper

by EagleHunter9



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Hangups, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 12:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10360602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EagleHunter9/pseuds/EagleHunter9
Summary: The first time the Inquisitor tried to go down on Dorian, he didn't expect his lover to stop him.Dorian has given many blowjobs, each one feeding his self-loathing a little bit, but he thinks of the act as degrading and submissive, something that 'real men' do not do. Safe to say, when the Inquisitor finds out, he'd horrified. And more than determined to prove his lover wrong.(Based on a Kmeme prompt.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So...I recently decided to create an account here, mostly because I wanted to post some of the (more smutty) fills I had on the Mass Effect and Dragon Age Kinkmeme somewhere. 
> 
> This is one of them.
> 
> The prompt was:
> 
> Dorian and LI (I'm going to use Inquisitor for the rest of the prompt, but I'm fine with whoever) have been hooking up for a little while. The Inquisitor is caught off guard when he tries to go down on Dorian and Dorian stops him because 'oh, you don't have to do /that/'. He's more than a little disturbed when further conversation reveals that Dorian thinks of the act as degrading and submissive, something that 'real men' don't do. Dorian has given many blowjobs, each one feeding his self-loathing a little bit, but he's never received one before. The Inquisitor is left unsettled about their previous encounters, realizing that while he was enjoying the afterglow Dorian was struggling with self-contempt.
> 
> Bonus if he has similar ideas about bottoming.

Trevelyan moaned shamefully loud, unable to help himself. Dorian’s mouth was hot and wet and wonderfully good around his sex, driving the nobleman crazy.

Somehow, despite the fact they have been is a relationship —no matter how tentative its nature— for a little over four weeks, Trevelyan was always taken by surprise by his new lover’s skills. 

The Altus was incredibly gifted at— well, at just about everything, and he just seemed to be getting better every time, if that was possible. 

It had been almost a week since they’ve last had the occasion to indulge into any recreational activities, thanks to the latest expedition to Emprise du Lion. Trevelyan had returned to Skyhold being able to think of little else but his new lover, and was ecstatic to find Dorian just as eager to take him to bed as the Inquisitor himself had been.

It had been Dorian who actually proposed the detour through the Inquisitor’s chambers, after all. 

It was Dorian who dragged Trevelyan into bed, stripped him and himself of their clothes, and proceeded to blow his lover’s mind with his wicked tongue.

It was Dorian who at that very moment pulled away to speak, his hands taking over what his tongue left unfinished. “Come for me, amatus.” Dear Maker, that voice, so out-of-breath, those warm hands still working his member, bringing him ever closer to the edge. 

The Inquisitor was definitely glad he’d taken the day off instead of preparing for another expedition. He groaned again, his hooded eyes watching Dorian hungrily, praises falling from his lips before he could help it, not that he wanted to.

Sweet Andraste, but the mage was almost unreal. Glorious- it was the only way to describe him.

When he took him in his mouth again Trevelyan wailed lowly, trashing despite his efforts to stay still, completely unravelled. A pleasant hum left Dorian’s throat at the sight, and just like that, the Herald of Andraste came fast and hot, making a mess of Dorian’s hair and makeup. 

The Tevinter chuckled, a mischievous half-smirk on his beautiful lips, red and glistering from their latest endeavour. “You are still so wonderfully responsive, amatus, but look at me, you ruined my hair!” He stretched casually on the bed to reach for the cloth on the nearby nightstand, definitely not as distraught as his earlier tone might have suggested, and Trevelyan smiled, utterly in love with the man.

As soon as his senses returned to him and the mind-numbing pleasured reversed into a mere pleasant buzz, the warrior took the time to take in sight of Dorian stretched out so fully before him, twisted from the middle, his lower half facing him, his member standing erect and proud. The mage’s skin, deliciously dark and flushed, was covered in a fine layer of perspiration. 

With a sinful smile and a still more sinful hunger rising, Trevelyan crawled silently forward. His mouth latched onto Dorian’s sensible neck hotly, moving deliberately lower with each nibble, his right hand digging into the bed for support and his left one wrapped loosely around the man’s sex, setting up a slow rhythm. As the mage shivered lightly, Trevelyan moved back just enough create some space so to bend and bring his head near Dorian’s middle. 

Dorian’s initial reaction when he felt his lover’s mouth kissing his stomach was one of clear surprise: the arching of his back, a gasp pulled forcefully from behind his teeth. Trevelyan enjoyed it immensely, having waited for a chance to turn the tables on Dorian and him be the one helplessly trashing in pleasure for a change. He had wanted it for a while already, and Maker, was it everything he’d imagined and more. The hand with the Anchor curled teasingly around his lover's length. 

Dorian let go of the cloth, twisted back to face his lover fully, and his eyes were wide, his lips parted in a silent ‘o’- but something was not quite right.

The mage didn’t relax into it once he realised what was happening— on the contrary, when Trevelyan’s tongue dared out to taste him for the first time, he tensed, and went very, very still.

“Amatus…” He swallowed thickly, something wild and almost panicky in his eyes.

Trevelyan stopped his advances with his mouth, though he didn’t take away his hand, and his breath still tickled Dorian’s naval with every exhale as he looked up with warm eyes. “Is something wrong, Dorian?” He asked with a frown.

Something must have been, since Dorian’s answering laugh was certainly tense and forced, and his voice was breezy and pitched strangely when he spoke. 

“You really don’t have to do… _that_.” He choked, and gently entangled one of his hands into Trevelyan’s hair to carefully bring his head away from his member, much to the other man’s confusion.

“Dorian?” The warrior asked again, worry quickly leaking into his voice once he noticed the discomfort and fear in Dorian’s expression. His mind shifted into ‘Inquisitor mode’ immediately, trying to figure out what could have caused such a reaction. Had he done something wrong? But what?

“It’s fine, we should just go straight to the good part, don’t you think?” The Altus laughed again, but the sound was hollow. 

Trevelyan wouldn’t let it go so easily; something was wrong, and whatever it was, it had hurt Dorian, so he’d be dammed if he would allow himself to be distracted from it.

“Something has bothered you, I cannot just ignore that.” Trevelyan might have used too much force when he said that, and as a consequence he saw Dorian flinch ever so slightly and averted his eyes. 

The Inquisitor forced himself to soften his tone. He moved to stand kneeling on the bed facing his lover and cupped his face with both his hands gently, touching their foreheads together. “You can trust me, Dorian. You know you can.” He reassured. “What’s wrong?” He whispered, much less harshly, coaxing the truth out of the beautiful Tevinter with his eyes.

Finally, Dorian seemed to relax, if only a fraction. “I-” He hesitated, but finally appeared to make up his mind. “It’s not proper for you to do that for me.” He laughed again, that same empty laugh, and Trevelyan decided there and then he hated that sound. “It is beneath you to… I can’t let you do something so degrading.” He stopped, seemingly struggling for a way to say his mind without missing the point, or maybe saying too much, but Trevelyan had heard enough. Not proper? Degrading? _‘Beneath him’_ , but not beneath Dorian? 

All of a sudden, he felt sick to his stomach.

Was that what Dorian though about pleasuring someone with one’s mouth? He’d never seemed to mind before, when he had been the one to do it.

“What do you mean, Dorian?” He already had an idea of what was going on, but he hoped he was wrong. Maker, let him be wrong.

Dorian sighed exaggeratedly, trying for his usual easy nonchalance, but Trevelyan’s frown and worry weren’t dispersed so easily. “What is there to explain? I believe I’ve made myself clear already.” He smiled curtly, dark undertones in his tone. “It is a degrading and submissive act, to do that, not something real men do.”

Trevelyan felt as if he’d been slapped and instantly recognised the harsh lines in his lover’s expression for what they were: bitterness and an incredible sense of self-loathing, all wrapped into a painful smile.

For a second, he didn’t know whatever to cry, to shout in outrage or to hit himself for his obliviousness to Dorian’s struggles until that very moment. He kissed the mage instead, both to apologise for not realising how selfish he’d been and to calm himself down. 

Dorian- beautiful, marvellous Dorian was still there, still his, and they would fix everything.

“Ah, amatus…” Trevelyan could read the confusion created by the sudden fierce kiss on Dorian’s face. Just seeing him, so disorientated and open, made something twist in the warrior’s guts.

“There’s nothing shameful about wanting to please the man you care about Dorian, no matter how you do it.” He spoke softly, as to not startle him, but Dorian’s eyes widened regardless of Trevelyan’s effort. 

“You can’t seriously mean that-”

He kissed him again, hard, and pulled their bodies together tightly. He continued then to ease Dorian down onto the mattress and ended the kiss, Trevelyan’s hands going to Dorian’s hips.

Dorian had just enough time to breathe twice before Trevelyan’s lips started taking his member in, playing first with the head before he was completely immersed into the heat and wetness of the Inquisitor’s mouth. 

Dorian gaped, knowing he should probably stop his lover, but in no position to do such. Finally, after some struggles, he pulled Trevelyan’s head away just enough for the mage to think again, and they stared hotly at each other for one long moment.

“That is-” Maker, it felt so difficult for Dorian to speak properly. “-completely unnecessary. As I said, you’re a man of a certain status and-”

Said man wrapped his tongue around one of Dorian’s fingers, effectively cutting him off before he gathered the sense and strength to pull his hand back with a flustered cry of: “Stop that!” 

“Well-” Trevelyan started, a stubborn light in his eyes, his throat working furiously, his tongue wetting his lips, as it had nothing else to occupy itself with. “-if being a ‘real man’ means I cannot show my lover how much I care about him; how much I care about his pleasure…” He stopped, cupping Dorian’s face again with one hand, and stared the man in his wide, wild eyes with all the heat he could muster. “If that’s what it takes, then I don’t bloody want to be one.”

He could see right away that that struck a chord by the look of pure awe that blossomed on Dorian’s face. A look of pure admiration and maybe even joy. 

Trevelyan kissed his again, just because he was so damned beautiful.

“I want to do this- I want to; do you understand? I want to share with you all types of pleasure, Maker how I want that.” He groaned. “Will you let me?”

Dorian bit his lip, bit back a smile, wiped quickly at the kohl under his eyes. “I look a mess, I bet.” He mumbled, before he kissed Trevelyan. 

“Now-” His lover pretended not to hear the slight tremble as Dorian spoke. “If you really want to, who am I to defer you?” His smile was shaky, but it was real, and the darkness that was there before was mostly gone then. 

Trevelyan took his time getting accustomed with the fell and taste and warmth of Dorian’s member the second time, taking great pleasure in making sure Dorian was completely drowned in desire by the time he was done with him. 

All things considering, Dorian did an admirable job at trying not to fall apart under the onslaught of pleasure as the Inquisitor worked him with his mouth. The sensations were new and strong, though, and before long Trevelyan soon found himself swallowing as much of the Tevinter’s seed as he could before pulling away and picking up the same cloth Dorian had used earlier to clean the both of them up.

Dorian, in the meantime, plopped himself on his elbows and smiled wobbly at his lover. 

“You know, I think I could learn to get used to this.”

Trevelyan smiled a positively sinful smile.

“Well then- what do you think about switching things up in the bedroom more often from now on? I bet being topped by you would turn up to be a whole lot of fun.”

Dorian choked, disbelief colouring his face, before he finally laughed— a true, honest-to-the-Maker laugh. 

“Whatever you want, amatus, whatever you want.”

. . . .

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed this. It was the first, and so far the only, time I wrote slash. I just love Dorian to pieces and I thought I'd give it a try. :)


End file.
